


Washing Up

by Sir_Donym



Series: Harassment of a Hunter [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Chikan, F/M, Forced Orgasm, In Public, Molestation, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, Omorashi, Public Humiliation, Situational Humiliation, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 02:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Donym/pseuds/Sir_Donym
Summary: After her disaster aboard the train, Hunter Esther seeks the privacy of the ladies room for some washing up.But her string of bad luck is far from over.





	Washing Up

Esther nearly knocked the door off the woman’s restroom as she entered it. Angrily throwing her ruined gloves into the trashcan and turning the sink on a second later, splashing the cold water over her face, snapping her back into character and washing the last remnants of the stranger out of her hair, then bent over to wash a taste out of her mouth she didn’t want to admit was there. After several minutes she gargled and spat into the sink, glaring at the disheveled woman she saw in the mirror.

“Well _that_ could’ve gone better.”

She ripped her beret off and dunked it underneath the faucet, scrubbing whatever bodily fluids might have soaked into the fabric before shaking it once and slamming it back on her head, quickly and aggressively forming it back to standard as she did so.

She pulled the wrinkles out of her clothes and straightened her undergarments, making a frustrated and fruitless attempt to restore herself to a military standard. Even with her now completely opened shirt tucked as tight as her bust would allow one could easily see the bridge of her bra if they happened to sneak a glance at her chest through a jacket that hadn’t fared any better, something the Hunter was painfully aware happened any time any man had a chance.

She noticed that the restroom was uncharacteristically vacant for such a large station, and Esther took advantage of her first lucky break of the day by loudly tearing off a generous handful of paper towels and unsubtly quickstepping into the large, handicapped-accessible stall hidden away in the back corner of the lady’s room. In a single motion she shut the door closed and slid the lock shut, and with some hesitation she lifted her skirt above her waist, her eyes rolling when she saw her shorts were still sopping wet from her episode.

“Ugh.”

Firmly she pressed the towels into her crotch and wiped her legs down, the paper going from dry to soaked in an instant, causing cheeks to go red even in the privacy of a locked stall when she realized that the amount she thought was more than necessary suddenly wasn’t close to being enough, her handful already saturated from the briefs alone. She tore even more tissue from the roll to her side, and swore as she felt her fluids drip back onto her stockings as she defiantly attempted to clean up after herself, until the seemingly futile effort had resulted in only moderately damp, translucent undergarments and a small mountain of water-logged paper threatening to overflow the toilet bowl. Before she could think about it any further Esther flushed them away, and willingly lowered her underwear for the first time that day to relieve herself before she would force herself back into the real world.

The moment she sat down to do so, she heard another occupant join her in the restroom.

They lingered at the door, before the noise of slow, deliberate footsteps made their way across the tile, Esther paying them no mind as they passed every empty stall until they stood just outside the single occupied one at the back of the restroom.

Esther uncharacteristically jumped when she heard a knock on her door, causing her stream to sputter to a stop on her legs. With a growl she tore more tissue from the roll.

“Occupied.”

There was silence, then another knock, louder.

“I said occu-”

In a flash, Esther’s already miserable day became worse.

She saw the vague silhouette of a man rushing underneath her door, and a combination of trained and instinctual threat assessment saw her instantly aim and fire a kick at his head. With all the terrible luck the universe had pitted against her the assailant managed to catch her boot the moment before it broke his nose and jaw, pushing it upward and pulling it forward, yanking the Hunter off her seat. . .

“Shit!”

. . . and slamming the back of her head into the wall behind her an instant later, knocking her senseless for as long as the silhouette needed.

Dazed, she could only watch as a black bolt of fabric enveloped her vision completely, and her worst fears were confirmed when she heard the mechanical clicking of handcuffs and felt ice-cold metal slice into her wrists to lock her to the sturdy handrails of the stall she had chosen for privacy.

She came back to her senses too late to matter, jolting and thrashing in place against her restraints. Her arms were uselessly folded against the two walls to her right and back sides, shoving her unwieldy form into a painfully awkward position that forced her to hold herself above the still open bowl and thrust her large midsection into the negative space that made up the majority of the stall, only just separated from a stable center of gravity that would have allowed Esther to put enough power behind another kick to end her situation in an instant.

Esther swallowed with reflexive dread, knowing that the figure could not have asked for her to be in a better pose if he had her consent.

The Hunter could do nothing as she felt him easily overpower her useless, flailing, legs and unzip her boots, casually chucking them into the corner of the stall to expose the full length of her stockings. He stopped for a moment, no doubt leisurely considering whether or not he wanted to leave them on before he started on his prey.

Esther stayed silent as the man made his decision, using the unfortunate advantage of recent memory to reluctantly brace herself for what she knew was coming just in time for the man to make up his mind. She felt her stockings slowly peel away from her thighs, still sticky from the identical event that had taken place not even an hour before.

She again cursed the lust that washed over her at her own infuriation, swearing aloud when the effort only served to arouse her more.

Esther’s shame rose to warm cheeks as she envisioned what was revealed to her tormentor when he pulled them below her knees, then her ankles, and finally off each carefully manicured toe. Her face went scarlet as the underwear followed them to the tile floor and she fully nude from the waist down, knowing that her thick, white legs and delicate feet were on full display for him to do with as he pleased, assuming he didn’t skip them entirely to defile the neatly trimmed patch of silver that highlighted her most sensitive parts.

But this figure had her for more than the length of a train ride, and he planned to use her for as long as she would last.

“A-Ah.”

Something moist scalded her chilled feet, worming its way between her toes as delicate fingers brushed up and down her legs. The tickling sensation causing her to jump spontaneously as the tongue continued up her feet and behind her knees, jolts of sensation straining her bladder and forcing short squeals of involuntary laughter to escape from Esther’s mouth, each followed by a grunt and an angry swear lest the stranger think for a second that she enjoyed the act.

Yet her body had no such reservations, and even with every fiber of her being set against it she could do nothing as all the discipline in the world crumbled completely to natural instinct. The dreaded transition starting again as she felt her heart beat through her chest, pumping warmth all throughout her body until she was hot to the touch.

Esther could only give an exasperated groan as she felt her body lubricate itself, the amount increasing rapidly as the stranger worked past her inner thighs.

As if waiting for the hint, the stranger eagerly skipped the remainder of her legs and pressed his face into her crotch, causing the off-guard Hunter to collapse into the open bowl with a pitiful gasp as the breath left her body. Her last wall of resistance fell as the stranger’s tongue thoroughly explored her interior, unable to stop herself from arching her back, forcing her hair and jacket into the water and thrusting her hips tighter against his mouth. Furious, she cut her losses, and merely waited for the stranger to take her to her second orgasm of the day.

When the stranger broke away Esther was exhausted. She no longer made the effort to lift her torso above the bowl, instead resigning herself to staying in the water until the stranger had finished with her, forcing her hips and legs to rise upwards as her body had fallen down, a somehow even more compromising position that presented the stranger with the perfect setup to a climax.

And like some cruel comedy, her recently opened bladder saw fit to remind her that it had been delayed too long, and Esther whimpered as the pressure in her stomach came close to bursting.

The whimper turned to a grunt when she felt the tongue tease her again, followed swiftly with a sharp cry when two fingers joined.

Esther was grateful for the blindfold that at least prevented the stranger from seeing her eyes roll back, but knew it did nothing to conceal her flaming red cheeks and the staccato moans as he rocked her back and forth against his hand, or the whimpering that came when he began to pick up speed.

“No no -”

The Hunter let out a yelp when a third finger joined without warning

“AHH!”

Esther could only thrash uselessly as her hips pressed themselves against the stranger’s hand in involuntary ecstasy, following it as close as possible until she had finished completely and the stranger mercifully tore it away.

Less mercifully, Esther’s bladder was finally free to eject its contents across the stall, and even in her ecstasy the Hunter could hear it splash across tile and back onto her body, hot embarrassment turning at once to incandescent lust and prolonging her climax for what felt like minutes.

She heard two clicking noises when she had finally finished, soaked from top to bottom in toilet water and urine, the pressure on her wrists releasing at last and leaving her free to rain vengeance upon her assailant – if only she had the strength to do so.

Instead, she was left panting in the bowl, powerless to even attempt a recovery as she heard the latch of the door slide open and footsteps guiltlessly make their way across tile until they were gone at last.

Only when she realized her stream had been continuing on the floor for several moments after her climax did she force herself back to her senses. Sloshing in the toilet as she scrambled to sit up and continue her bodily functions where they were meant to be deposited. With the hurried apprehension of ripping off a band-aid she removed her blindfold and took stock of the damages.

The stall was an utter mess, liquid dripping off every surface like condensation and forming into a puddle that surrounded her. She exhaled when she noticed that the stranger hadn’t bothered to close the door behind him, and rolled her eyes when she discovered some of her arc had managed to make it over the walls.

Turning to her wardrobe, most of it would be considered ruined if she had any alternative. Her skirt had gone from pristine white to a damp grey, her jacket and the edges of her shirt still dripped from the water in the bowl, and the underwear and stockings directly beneath her were beyond salvageable.

She stood when she had finished what she had originally entered the restroom for, though there was little left for her to empty. With what dignity she could manage she stood at last, ringing out her jacket into the bowl before flushing, contenting herself with the cold shirt that clung to her skin lest she remove it and be instantly set upon by some other assailant.

She straightened her disheveled top as much as it could be, hurriedly buttoning what few buttons remained while still naked from the waist down before plucking her skirt off the damp ground. She took whatever remaining frustration she had out on it, beating whatever moisture she could and hanging it over her arm, only to cringe as she considered the panties still lying on the ground.

There was no way she’d put them back on, and she attempted to convince herself that they wouldn’t do any good anyways – considering they had gone completely transparent.

But she knew with her luck, going commando was a bad choice, even if it was her only one.

She crumpled up the undergarments before throwing them into the trash alongside the dripping stockings, thankfully covered her bottom half with the skirt, and too-quickly stepped into the first boot.

A shocked expression came over her face before she willed it back to stone, and without noise she pulled the boot off to pour whatever liquid had collected in its bottom from her episode.

She did the same with the second before finally removing her bare feet from the floor of a public restroom and, without modesty, set to wiping the rest of herself off with whatever toilet paper remained in the stall.

The Hunter didn’t feel satisfied with the job, but it was the best she was going to do.

With some relief she left the stall and set off towards the public world again, accidentally catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she passed the sinks.

She wished she hadn’t.

The woman that had started the day as a picture of elegance looked as if she were merely a whore playing a Hunter. Despite the obviously missing gloves and stockings, her once white uniform had gone an entire shade darker, the scarcely-buttoned top leaving nothing of her generous bust to the imagination, a problem temporarily enhanced by the exposed white undershirt having gone translucent.

Esther couldn’t even pretend that the entirety of her bra wasn’t visible, and even though the skirt concealed her lack of underwear the Hunter felt no less exposed.

For the second time of the day, she straightened her silver hair has best she could, washed her porcelain face, and straightened her beret.

Leaving the restroom at last, she dared one last look at the door.

_“Closed for maintenance: Our apologies for any inconvenience!”_

Duly, the Hunter noted her lack of situational awareness, and ignored the bystanders stealing glances at her chest as she continued her day.


End file.
